


Dangerous Games of Affection

by Fallencellist



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Other, also a bit creepy, and hinted previous Sniper/Spy, onesided Spycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallencellist/pseuds/Fallencellist
Summary: Sometimes, it's difficult to decipher if it is done out of affection, or just a way to worm his way into the mind of another new recruit to BLU.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one shot writing I decided to whip out after not feeling like sleeping and writing something ominous. Loosely based off of the character Enzo from my rp blog on tumblr. Enjoy!

It was difficult to understand the way he showed affection. He wasn't normal like everyone else, something was off about him. Like any other man of his job he was violent and malicious, but was that truly odd? Spies always seemed to be a bit more... unorthodox when it came to ethics on the battlefield. He was different even for a Spy. 

Every down and then there would be a switch in the other team's Spy ever since the first one had left the base—either got a better job or just decided he was done with that place, most of BLU team did the same. It was annoying having to dull his skills like a overused knife, just to make sure the little boys and girls on the other team didn't get frustrated or feel obsolete like they actually were. Why waste his skills on little children? If he was going out into battle, there was no holding back. 

Ethics were never a worry for him: was there really room for ethics on the battlefield over a seemingly endless war? The RED didn't think so, and a few of his teammates agreed. Ethics, were not needed. 

Yes, one would disagree with his asessment, that even in a war there is always room for ethics. “Ethics keep people alive” or “ethics is the only reason why the human race wasn't falling apart.” They didn't understand what these mercenaries went through. Day in and day out they were blown apart, ridden with bullets, stabbed by knives, made a pincushion for syringes. And day in and day out they respawned, waking up completely in one piece with few memories of what happened seconds before their deaths. 

Though, not everyone forgot the pain of death. He still remembered, every pain as the bullets lodged into his flesh, every cut and slash of the blade, every sensation of searing pain that exploded through his nerves. One would think, such memories would break a man, cause him to cower away from dying and hide in the battle, afraid of remembering those sensations. Not him. He enjoyed it. Fuel to the fire that drove him. 

Over the years after the original BLU team started to vanish to new posts, he made a game for himself out of the new little mercenaries: which one could he break first? He was always bias, going for the support classes, especially his counterpart. He always tested them, seeing if they were as good as the man he was based off of. 

None of them really ever made it past the status quo. They were pathetic! He could easily pick out the fools in the crowd of his teammates, the trained eyes seeing the wisps of blue smoke flowing off their form. A few of the amateurs would even bump into other REDs, including a few times himself—once when the idiot was disguised as him. 

Male or female they all suffered the same fate: stab wounds to all parts he could get to, rarely just a clean backstab and away. They were insults, pathetic excuses for a Spy. At times, he missed his old BLU counterpart. 

Today, there was another new Spy to the BLU team: apparently the last one had filed for a relocation due to being harassed by a member of RED. Required by contract, he was forced to have a talk with the administration about being caught harassing an enemy. He gave a solemn vow not to continue doing that, to one specific class. 

Now, he was getting ready for another mission, preparing to play his little game with the new Spy. 

“Hey,” the sea blue eyes glanced up to see the RED Sniper staring at him from behind the aviators he wore, “Ease up on the new BLU alright?” The Sniper always seemed to coddle the little BLU Spies ever since he had that fling with the old one. 

“It's all part of the job Lawrence,” Spy snorted, adding in the Sniper's real name to add to the bitter remark, “If they can't handle it, they don't deserve to be in this war.” 

Sniper sighed, shaking his head before picking up his rifle, “I know, I know. Just,” he glanced back over to Spy, “Why do ye always go for the Spies? They have a new Medic ye know?” It was just the two of them in the back of the resupply room, the rest starting to hover at the gate that opened into the world of the battlefield, “Do ye have something against them because of Yves?” 

He shot a dangerous glare towards his teammate, rearing up like a snake who had it's tail stomped on, “Do not ever mention that name!” He grabbed the Sniper by the shirt, bringing him in close, “I do not care for that fool at all,” Spy seemed to visibly relax, letting go of the New Zelander, “I just like to test their skills.” 

“None of 'em are going to be as good as him, or you Enzo,” The Sniper lowered his voice, just to make sure the others didn't hear him use the Spy's real name. Much like the BLU team, many of the RED team members were transferred, only leaving Spy, Sniper, Medic and Engineer from the original team—nobody had a clue to what happened to their Soldier: perhaps he just flew the coop, or he finally angered his magician roommate enough that Merasmus turned him into a raccoon. Either way they were with a new Soldier. 

“I know,” Spy sighed, shaking his head as he picked up the balisong from the storage unit, “I can always hope. I do miss the challenge.” He stood up, adjusting the sleeves of his suit. 

“Heh,” Sniper itched his nose with a grin, “You and me both mate. I want to go full force again, like the ol' days,” He gave a quick pat on the shoulder to his friend before heading towards the front, “Maybe one day.” 

The Frenchman watched as Sniper joined the rest of the team, noticing that the man smiled to Medic and Engineer. They all missed their original teams, and even missed the old BLUs. Once you got used to the people around you, it got easier to slaughter them or slaughter with them. 

“Mission begins in ten seconds!” The familiar voice of the Administrator boomed over the speakers. Spy hummed to himself, heading over to join his gathered teammates. Show time, “Mission Begins!” 

They swarmed out of the gates like rats released into a maze with the reward of cheese at the end. Spy made himself scare straight from the start, heading to the enemy base completely invisible. Today's battle he decided to treat himself with two knives, on being his balisong the other being a hidden blade within the sleeve of his jacket. As long as he didn't have both out at the same time the Administrator wouldn't care. 

Upon reaching the enemy base there was automatically something different: standing in the doorway leading out of the main building of the base was the RED Scout, holding a disguise kit. Children were always really dumb. 

So, to play along with the little child, the RED pulled out his own kit, picking out the perfect disguise. Red smoke surrounded him and when it dissipated only the BLU Medic stood there. Casually he changed his disguise to make it seem like the doctor was carrying his gruesome bonesaw. Then he reared the corner, nearly sauntering up to the new Spy, “You know, herr Spy,” he imitated the German's voice exactly, “It's best not to have your disguise kit out when you are tying to disguise.” 

The supposed Red Scout jumped at the voice, whipping around to see the supposed BLU Medic, “I-I don't know what you mean,” it was a sad attempt at imitating the Boston boy's voice, “I'm Scout!” He hid the disguise kit behind his back, “Can't you tell?” 

“Vell,” He held up a gloved finger, “First of all if you really vere the RED Scout, you vould be attacking me by now, second,” he pointed to the disguise kit, “Zat would not be showing and finally,” he pointed to the man's face, “You would be speaking exactly like ze Scout, not with a awful attempt at it. Vork on your ability to mimick ze enemy herr Spy.” 

The man deflated, the disguise flickering off in a puff of blue smoke, “Was it really that obvious?” He pulled the disguise kit in front of his, perusing through the different options, “Would it just be better if I stuck to classes that weren't as fast as the Scout? Like the Medic or the Spy?” 

“Vhy do you think I would have the answer for that?” The Medic laughed, waving a hand as he stepped closer to the Spy, “It's not my job to know who's the best to disguise as.” The mission today was different than the rest: it was done minutes after it struck midnight, making it quite difficult for other classes expect for the Spies—or Spy in this case since the BLU was on his first day. 

“Oh,” he sighed, glancing up to the sky, “Right. Apologies for not remembering that: you just heal the people who kill the other team. Nothing useful.” 

If he really was the Medic, that Spy would have found out the hard way that sometimes, on rare occasions, the Medics were able to bypass the system that disallowed damage to a fellow teammates, “Herr Spy,” He sounded annoyed as he stepped beside the Spy, standing to his left, “You should remember that I am ze one who keeps people alive on zis team, including you. So if you want to stay alive, I would not insult me, ja?” He placed a hand on the BLU's shoulder, giving him a dangerous smile. 

“Right...” The Spy eyed him suspiciously, “Shouldn't you go out and heal the other teammates?” One cue the BLU Heavy called out for the Medic, which was followed by a prompt “Ja.” 

“Of course,” The Medic's expression turned to a cruel grin, “Right after I teach you a lesson...” The red smoke began to seep off the Medic's body, the friendly hand on the Spy's right shoulder quickly turning into a grip around the Spy's throat. 

The BLU gasped, trying to pull away from the grip, right before a second arm wrapped around the left side, completely ensnaring him in the RED's trap. Spy leaned in closer to his BLU counterpart, lowering his voice as he whispered into his ear, “Never let your guard down, and listen.” In a swift second the hidden blade revealed itself, pressing against the BLU's shoulder, “And always check your teammates for,” he got even closer, his nose brushing against the side of his counterpart's face, “Moi.” 

He could feel the dread and fear rising off of the Spy, intoxicating to him, “I'm quite disappointed,” Spy mused, keeping extremely close to the newer Spy, his left hand gripping the blue tie, “I always expect my new counterpart to be better than this, but every time they disappoint.” 

“Maybe you have too high of standards,” The Spy hissed, grabbing onto the arm around his neck with both hands. 

It was amusing, how had the kid tried to be snide and come up with a good comeback. Amusing, but very sad. Spy laughed, as quiet as he could to not draw attention to their position, “Oh mon enemi,” He shook his head, before pressing it against the others head, “Tu need to try better than that.” 

He tightened the tie around the Spy's neck, hearing him let out a grunt of pain, “You'll need to try so much more than that. Because I want a challenge,” He turned, so he could clearly see the eye of the newbie staring back at him, “All of the ones between you and the first one, have been so pathetic and so easy to outsmart.” Slowly the gloved hand slipped under the suit jacket, “I want to see if you will be a challenge.” 

A dangerous grin fell onto his lips, noticing that the Spy had nothing to respond to him. Chuckling he pressed his whole body into the back of the man, reaching further under the suit jacket, “And I want to see if you will be, weak like those others.” Spy let out a low chuckle, before gently licking the BLU's ear. 

He let his tongue rest on the covered cartilage, feeling the shiver run down the BLU's body. Then he returned his tongue back to the shelter of his mouth, lips still curled into a cruel smile, “Don't disappoint me.” 

The BLU opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off by the feeling of something behind removed from his suit jacket. Then before he could even twitch a muscle the blade drove deep into the side of his neck. Garbled gasped escaped the man, his body trembling as he tried to scramble to remove the embedded blade. 

“So cute,” The RED chuckled, keeping a strong hold on the blade, watching the hands claw at the skin were the blade pierced, “You feebly try to fight me rather than actually outsmart me. Tu are a Spy,” he twisted the knife in the flesh, causing blood to spew out of the wound, “A Spy cannot rely on his strength, he cannot expect to fight somebody who is much more well built or has the advantage by just purely trying to overpower him using strength. Tu need to outsmart them!” His voice raised, digging the man's own knife deeper into his flesh, twisting it along the way, “You need to observe their tactics and learn their weakness. Move faster than them and more intelligently! Only then,” his voice lowered back to a calm tone, returning to a whisper into the Spy's ear, “Only then will you be a real Spy.” 

He let go of the blade, moments after dragging his own knife across the man's throat, slicing through cloth, flesh and through the jugular artery. In moments the BLU collapsed to the ground, the warm irony liquid flowing onto the concrete ground. In another heart beat, the man was dead. 

Snorting, Spy dusted off the lapels of his suit jacket, “You got blood on my suit,” before gazing down at the corpse, “Try again you sorry excuse for a Spy.” 

A small smirk curled on his lips, “I'll be seeing you...” He let out a whistle before vanishing into thin air, leaving only the crumpled up body.


End file.
